The group gathered about the picture to admire. It showed a rather nice looking boy, with an outdoor flavour, and eyes that questioned.... The face was too young to have character. 

 "He's had on long trousers for six years!" said Annette. There was a hushed silence. "Isn't he divine!" gurgled one young person at length. Cecilia had only looked. The shadowy dream man vanished. The picture boy took his place. 

 This day Cecilia walked alone as usual. Mrs. De Pui was an advocate of trust as a developer of "womanly instinct," so on a stipulated number of streets, the girls were allowed to walk unchaperoned. They went in little groups, all except Cecilia. She was her own small group. 

 To-day she walked alone, at least it seemed so, but by her Cecilia felt K. Stuyvesant Twombly.  "I admire art," he was saying. His voice, curiously enough, was Mrs. De Pui's. 

 "So do I," agreed Cecilia.  "Beauty develops us, the best of us, and brings a shining light into the soul."  Cecilia stopped. Then because she was very truthful she went on: "That is not original. The man who lectures us on Art said it. He has whiskers and false teeth, I believe, for they click when he says, 'Renaissance.'" ... "Oh, Heavens!" thought Cecilia, "I will never be a lady. That would not be the way to talk to the ideal man. About teeth!—false ones!" 

 Then the cat had appeared. Rather Cecilia had nearly walked on it. It was a limp little grey and white heap, its fur half wet from the gutter, and eyes half closed. 

 "Poor pussy," said Cecilia.  "You look like I feel when I'm with them what have social advantages. Poor pussy!"  She was very tender toward it. She leaned above it, then picked it up.  "I will bribe Annie, with dresses, to feed it," she thought. The cat began to be violently ill. Cecilia put it down. 

 "I say!" came in a rather husky voice, "Pussy needs some Mothersill's, doesn't she?" 

 Cecilia didn't understand the allusion, but she looked up smiling. The voice had been attractively hearty. After she looked up, she gasped. 

 "What are you going to do with it?" went on the young man. 

 "I thought I'd take it to my school and get the hired girl,—I mean maid,—to feed it." 

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